To the journey (post Endgame) - PG-13 version
by NamelessEnsign
Summary: Pairing: J/C, J/Harry, mention of D/7 and C/7. Description: This is first-person-present-tense-Janeway-story that takes off where Endgame ended. A remake of the original NC-17 version.
1. Default Chapter

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part One - In a cafe **   
  
  
_Funny. For the past seven years, I've been certain that once we made it home, I would be happy about it. It would be a triumph, the height of my career, of my life even. And then my conscience would be clear. Guilt would leave me, and only joy and fulfillment would remain. But when Voyager emerged from that trans-warp conduit in front of all those Starfleet vessels, I only felt empty. There was no joy, no fulfillment. Oh, I've longed to see my mother and Phoebe again, but other than that, I didn't have any reason to come back to Earth any more. I realize now that the only reason I held on to the mission of going home, is that... well I guess I just needed a goal. The crew needed a goal. Otherwise we'd just be drifting in space. Oh, but right now, I wish I was out there again, that the last two weeks never happened. But then I'd end up that hardened, lonely admiral. Respected - yes, wise - perhaps, healthy - obviously, happy - no. I don't want to become that person. But it looks like I'll end up like her anyway. Of course, Tuvok has a chance of being cured, Seven and 22 other members of my crew don't have to die because of me, and Chakotay... will hopefully be happy. Damn them. I know the Admiral from the future gave her life so that Tuvok would be well, so that Chakotay would be happy, so that I at least wouldn't feel so damn guilty. But I'm still lonely and I'm beginning to doubt that the guilt will ever leave me. Maybe I've been collecting guilt for too long. There is no way I can make everything right.   
  
I wonder how Seven is doing. I haven't seen her since the day after we reached Earth. I guess, as her mentor, I haven't been doing a very good job these last couple of weeks. I just can't face her. I don't think I'd be very nice. And she doesn't deserve my anger. She didn't know. How could she have known? And even if she had known, why should she care? I should be happy we succeeded, so she didn't have to die. But these last couple of weeks I've been more selfish than I'm used to being. Anyway, she doesn't need me now, she's got a new mentor... God, that makes me feel so desperately lonely. I feel like I've lost both her and Chakotay. I love them both, separately, and in different ways. But I can't face them together. My best friend and my protégée don't need me any more because they now have each other. God, that's so depressing. Damn them._   
  
  
  
"Captain?"   
  
I look up into the smiling blue eyes of Tom Paris. An immediate sense of warmth spreads throughout me. Being busy wallowing in self-pity had made me forget that I do have friends and allies after all. I smile at him, a happy, honest smile. I gesture for him to sit down at my table. Then I close the old-fashioned diary I was writing in, and turn to face him.   
  
"It's so good to see you, Tom!" That's really an understatement, but acting too over enthusiastic would probably make him think I was crazy. Tom looks relieved, and his eyes are glittering. I guess maybe he feels a bit alien to Earth too.   
  
"Likewise, Captain."   
  
"Please, call me Kathryn. We're not on the ship any more."   
  
He smiles back at me. "All right... Kathryn..." Just then, the waiter comes up to our table, and Tom gestures towards him. "Another cup of coffee?"   
  
I nod, and Tom orders two cups of coffee.   
  
"So, how have you been, Tom? And how's B'Elanna and the baby? Have you decided on a name yet?" I guess maybe I am acting over enthusiastic anyway. Oh, to hell with it. I **am** over enthusiastic.   
  
"I'm fine. I just... it feels a bit strange, doesn't it?"   
  
I nod. "I was just sitting here wishing I was back on Voyager, still stuck in the Delta Quadrant. Despite all the reasons the Admiral gave me... us for taking this chance to go home, I can't bring myself to be completely happy about it." I smile a little, trying to convey that I don't mean that I wish any of them any danger or unhappiness. Tom seems to understand, though.   
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Kinda sad, isn't it? We spend seven years trying to get home, and when we do, we realize we don't really fit in there anymore."   
  
We sit quiet for a while, both somber, both sad for the dangerous but familiar home we've lost now that we've made it back to the place we thought was home. Ironic. Then the waiter arrives with our coffee, and we pull ourselves out of our musings. I sip my coffee, the hot, black, and soothing beverage I've missed so much. "Ah! Real coffee. Now I remember why I wanted to come back to Earth," I say and flash Tom a crooked smile over the rim of my cup. He smiles back at me, and the twinkle in his eye I'm so used to seeing returns.   
  
"Yeah. And dad would want to see his granddaughter. Maybe we did make the right decision in coming back after all." He's joking too, trying to lighten the mood.   
  
I suddenly think of my earlier questions. "Speaking of Owen's granddaughter, you never told me how B'Elanna and the baby were doing."   
  
"Ah. They're doing just fine."   
  
Somehow, I don't think he's telling me the whole truth. "Really?"   
  
"I guess we're just having a hard time adjusting to being back on Earth. There are so many people around, but not the people we want to be around."   
  
The Voyager family. I miss them too. "I know what you mean."   
  
Another moment of silence pass between us. Then he speaks again, genuinely cheerful this time. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"   
  
I look up at him, surprised. A small hope of not having to spend another evening alone is being born in me. "No. Why?"   
  
"Maybe you'd like to join us for dinner?" His eyes are hopeful, pleading.   
  
I'll accept of course, gratefully. "I'd love to, Tom. Where are you staying?"   
  
"At my dad's house. He'll be there too. I hope you won't mind? I think he'd love to talk to you too."   
  
I smile, and for the first time in two weeks, I'm not feeling like I'm all alone. "No, of course I won't mind. What time?"   
  
"1800 hours?"   
  
The way he says that makes me smile. We're so thoroughly trained military people, we can't even use the expression 'six o'clock' like everyone else does.   
  
"What?" he asks, confused.   
  
"Oh, I was just thinking, maybe we all need some time off to be something other than Starfleet officers. Even now, in a cafe in San Francisco, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, we talk like military people." He just looks at me questionly so I clarify. "You said '1800 hours', not 'six o'clock'."   
  
"Oh." He still looks confused.   
  
"Never mind, Tom. It's just me trying to figure out how not to be the Captain. I guess I'm overdoing it. I'll be there at 1800 hours." I smile.   
  
He nods and smiles back at me, obviously pleased. "Well I better get going. B'Elanna sent me to do the grocery shopping, and if I spend all afternoon in a cafe, there won't be any dinner at all. I'll see you tonight, then?"   
  
I nod and he gets up to leave. "Oh, and Tom? Thank you for inviting me. You have no idea how much it means."   
  
He smiles. "I think I do."   
  
Then he leaves. Leaves me alone with only my thoughts for company again. But at least I don't feel so depressed any more. The thought of spending the evening in the company of friends—no, family is what they are—is very comforting. I decide to make the most of it and get some new clothes. I don't want to go in my uniform, and all my civilian clothes are old and hopelessly outdated. I leave the cafe, happily humming to myself. 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	2. Part Two - Owen's House

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Two - Owen's house **   
  
  
Shopping for new clothes only takes about an hour. And even though I normally can soak in the bathtub for hours at a time, I guess I'm just too eager to see the Paris family. I have plenty of time before I need to leave, so I replicate myself some wine and try to relax. But I give up after just a few sips and decide I'd rather spend the excess time at the Paris house than alone in my impersonal hotel room. So I leave. The night is warm, although a gentle rain has started to fall. The sensation of rain falling on my face, and the fragrances it brings out, seem completely new to me. I decide to walk for a while before going to the transporter pad. The Paris family can wait another few minutes. Walking in the rain makes me feel so free, yet imprisoned. I seem to be full of conflicting emotions at the moment. Right now, there is no place I'd rather be than right here. I feel like I never want to leave Earth again. Yet I long for space. The unknown, the mysteries, the danger even. I'm happy about being close to my family again, yet I feel all alone. It's so confusing. Chakotay... I truly am happy that he found happiness with Seven, but at the same time I hate him for it. If they only had waited another few weeks, I would have been able to tell him. Even though I could not act on it, the spark, the electricity between us is what kept me going through the long years in the Delta Quadrant. That, and the way he was loyal to me even when I wasn't being loyal to myself. Now, talking to him is only awkward, and thinking of him makes me angry. I'm amazed at how easily our intimate friendship was turned into dust. Sadness is threatening to overwhelm me so I decide it's time to find that transporter pad. I really need to be among friends right now.   
  
The Paris' are surprised when I arrive more than an hour early, but I'm sure they understand. They don't mention it. Tom is the one to open the door, and even though I saw him only a few hours ago, he hugs me, as if he was greeting a dear cousin he hadn't seen in a long time.   
  
Then B'Elanna comes rushing into the hallway, smiling broader than I've ever seen her smile before. She hugs me too, fiercely. "Captain! I'm so glad to see you."   
  
"It's Kathryn now."   
  
"It's still good to see you."   
  
I hug her back, just as fiercely. "I've missed you too, B'Elanna."   
  
From the corner of my eye, I see another figure at the end of the hallway, moving towards us. I realize it must be Admiral Owen Paris. Tom's father, my father's colleague and friend, my mentor at Starfleet Academy, and the commanding officer on my first mission. I let go of B'Elanna to greet him. He watches us in wonder. The connection between us isn't the purely professional connection that usually exists between the Captain and his or her crew. On the other hand, normal crews and captains don't spend seven years together in unchartered and unfriendly areas of space, either.   
  
"Kathryn! How are you? You look wonderful." Owen Paris walks up to me and gathers me in a fatherly embrace.   
  
"Thank you, Owen. I'm fine. How are you?"   
  
"Wonderful, wonderful! I've got a new daughter-in-law and granddaughter to get to know." Then he let go of me and looks firmly into my eyes. "Thank you for bringing them back to me, Kathryn. I always knew you'd do something special and fantastic one day."   
  
"Thank you, Owen, but I didn't do it alone. We all did it together."   
  
I suppose I should be proud. For being the Captain that made one crew out of her own Starfleet people and the renegades she was sent out to capture. And for bringing most of them safely back home. But I feel only sorrow. For the years lost, and for the people we lost trying to get back to Earth. But at least it wasn't in vain. Not for all of us.   
  
The evening is wonderful and I find myself getting very attached to little Miral, Tom's and B'Elanna's now two week-old daughter, named after her Klingon grandmother. It feels so good to have her close to me. A little miracle. A new person, one who trusts me completely in her innocence. I don't want to let go of her so I end up carrying her around most of the evening. When I finally have to let go of her so she can go to bed, my heart aches, and it takes me several minutes of just watching her sleep before I can join the others again.   
  
"She's beautiful."   
  
They all look at me, and in that moment I think they realize how desperately I want a child of my own. If we hadn't been thrown into the Delta Quadrant, Mark and I would probably have a child or two by now. But it's too late for that now, and it breaks my heart. They look as sad as I feel at the realization. They're getting to know Kathryn. And I am too. I smile, needing to lighten the mood, to take my mind of the subject. I pour myself another glass of wine and sit down with the others.   
  
"So, have you given any thought to what you're going to do now?" I direct the question to both Tom and B'Elanna.   
  
Whether it's the wine we've been drinking, or perhaps because I had stated I was there as Kathryn, I don't know, but they ignore my question. Instead they linger on our wordless communication of a few minutes earlier. B'Elanna is the first to speak. "You regret not having children, don't you?" Her question is direct. So very much B'Elanna. But her voice is hushed, the tone friendly, caring.   
  
I look into my wine, watching the dark red liquid intently. Not that I need to think about the answer, but because I don't trust myself to speak right now. Then I take a deep breath, and look up. "I haven't really had any choice in the matter."   
  
They all remain quiet so I continue. "My first fiancé, Justin…" I look at Owen, who looks back at me with sympathy in his eyes, it was on his ship I first met Justin, and, being an admiral at Starfleet, he knows about the accident. After another deep breath, I continue. "My first fiancé, Justin, was killed in an accident. My father was killed in the same accident. I was the only survivor. A few years later I ran into Mark again, we're childhood friends, you know." I see Tom nod, I think he remember me talking about him as a teenager when our fathers, the admirals, would invite each other's families over for dinner every now and then. "During the ten years we spent together before Voyager was thrown into the Delta Quadrant, we never talked about having children. We were both busy with our careers. He is a well-known philosopher, by the way." At those words, I see B'Elanna raise her eyebrows. I guess she's always imagined me with another scientist. "We thought we'd have plenty of time later."   
  
To my surprise, Owen is the one to ask the next question. "And on the ship?"   
  
I'm totally unprepared for the question, and the emotions it stirs in me. "I... I didn't feel I had the luxury of having an intimate relationship. Besides, I wouldn't have been much of a companion, I was the Captain. Always the Captain." And I was frightened, I add to myself. Of losing another loved one like I had lost Justin and Mark. It was just too painful.   
  
B'Elanna, who's sitting next to me, takes my hand. "Come over whenever you feel like it, you're always welcome wherever Tom and I are. And I would like Miral to know you and who you are, Kathryn. You're welcome to spend as much time as you like with her."   
  
I squeeze her hand, and look at her gratefully. "Thank you." My voice is a whisper, I'm fighting to control the tears that are threatening to spill. Starfleet Captains don't cry. At least Captain Janeway doesn't. But I realize that I don't know if Kathryn does. 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	3. Part Three - By my side

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Three - By my side **   
  
  
_I'm sitting on the balcony of my hotel room, writing this. I'm not sure why but it seems important to document these first days back on Earth. The sun is shining on my face, and it has never felt better. For the last seven years I've only had the luxury of relaxing in the sunshine on a handful of occasions. The holodeck's fake photonic sun doesn't count. It has been a wonderful substitute at times, but it's not the same as real sunshine.   
  
I've slept well for the first time since the Admiral appeared on my ship, and I am actually enjoying not having any plans. There is no place I need to be, there aren't 150 people depending on me. I don't have to ration my replicator use. And it feels wonderful. I've used that word a lot in these last few sentences, haven't I? Well, it's the word that floats around in my mind this morning. Wonderful.   
  
It's a wonderful world._   
  
  
  
I absently reach for my cup and realize that it's empty. Closing my diary, I get up to get more coffee. I feel joyful today, like there isn't a problem in the world I couldn't solve. I decide to call Seven.   
  
With a fresh cup of coffee in my hand, a smile on my lips, and filled with confidence, I sit down by my terminal and dial the terminal in Seven's hotel room. After a few moments, someone answers my call, but it's not Seven's face that appears on the screen. It's Chakotay's. My mood suddenly swings again, and I realize with painful clarity that there **are** problems I can't solve. "Chakotay."   
  
"Captain." He is formal, and looks a bit embarrassed.   
  
I don't know what to say to him, the situation is absurdly awkward. And why is he calling me 'Captain'? He hasn't done that in years, not unless there were crewmembers present. Sometimes not even then. I find that although I miss him desperately, I can't, don't even want to, talk to him right now. Not over Seven's terminal anyway. The silence that always has been comfortable between us, is now strained. I realize I need to say something. "I was looking for Seven."   
  
"Sorry, she's not in right now."   
  
Then what the hell are you doing there? Have you two moved in together? That didn't take long. Suddenly I'm angry. I need to do something about these mood swings. Perhaps I should talk to one of the counselors that we've have been offered, after all. "Oh," I say. That's all I can think of to say. The silence is threatening to become strained again. Needing to stop that from happening, I end the pitiful excuse for a conversation. "Well, tell her I called. Goodbye, Commander." I turn off my terminal before he has a chance to reply.   
  
I sit and glare at the terminal screen, now dead and black, for several minutes before I finally can pull myself together. I'm not this moody, am I? The frightening truth is that I don't really know. Over the last seven years, my chances of being Kathryn, just Kathryn, have been few and far apart. Kathryn the spontaneous, the unpredictable, the... moody. I guess I do have a bad temper after all. But I can't remember it being this visible before. Perhaps it's just stress. I can think of only one place where I can find peace right now. The place where I grew up. I turn on the terminal again, and within a few seconds, my mother's face fills the screen. I smile at her loving and familiar face and I feel calmer immediately. "Hi Mum."   
  
"Kathy! Is something wrong?"   
  
"Why should anything be wrong? Just because I haven't called you for seven years or so..."   
  
She lifts an elegant eyebrow, and glare at me mockingly, the corners of her lips twitching, but she doesn't speak.   
  
"Mum, would I cause you a lot of trouble if I came home today instead?"   
  
The plan was to stay in San Fransisco another few days, in case Starfleet decide to call us to more interviews and debriefings. But I need to be with my mother right now. Starfleet can say what they want about that, it doesn't matter. What matters to me is my family, the loved ones I only was allowed to see a few short hours the day we got back.   
  
"No trouble at all, Kathy sweetie. Your room is ready and waiting for you. Are you hungry? I was just about to make some lunch."   
  
"Sounds wonderful, Mum. I'll be there within the hour."   
  
She nods and smiles. "I'll see you then."   
  
She is about to terminate the link, but I stop her. "And Mum?" I wait until she looks back at me before I continue. "I love you."   
  
Her voice is as soft as I remember it, as soothing as it was when I was a child, when she replies. "I love you too, sweetheart."   
  
And my heart fills with warmth and love.   
  
The sight that greets me when I step off the transporter pad roughly forty-five minutes later is not the one I had expected. I drop my bags where I stand at the familiar sight of the unruly hair, the wide warm smile set in the tanned face, the broad shoulders. The familiar, friendly eyes. "Mark." I whisper his name to myself and practically run into his arms. "Oh God... Mark." I'm mumbling into his chest. His familiar scent is enveloping me, his strong arms holding me tight.   
  
His voice is slightly shaky when he speaks. "Kath..."   
  
He is stoking my hair, and with my face pressed to his chest I can hear his sobs, his ragged breathing betraying him. And I remember how much I loved the way he could show his emotions without ever seeming weak. I'm not surprised when I notice that tears are running down my cheeks too. "I've missed you so much, Mark." He answers by tightening his arms around me, gently swaying me back and forth. How easy wouldn't it be to just lift my face and kiss him, and everything would be like before. It was always so easy to be with Mark. But then he brings his hand up to caress my face and I see the ring. He wore one when I last saw him seven years ago too, but that one had my name in it and I wore one that matched it. This ring represents his commitments to someone else. I turn my face to look at my own hand, where I used to wear his ring and I am unable to stop the grief that's flooding me. I bury my face in his chest and cry for the life we thought we'd have together, but which is now forever lost.   
  
We stand there holding each other for a long time, until both his breathing and mine return to normal.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Kath."   
  
I look up at him and try to smile. "So am I."   
  
He gently kisses my forehead and we move to pick up my bags, arm in arm. And then it dawns on me. Mark is the one that never left my side. Not until I was declared missing in action, presumed dead. And now he's here by my side again. We were friends long before we became lovers, and I vow to do everything I can to hold on to that friendship.   
  
As we approach my mother's house, my smile is growing wider. This is the one place where I've never been the Captain. My mother wouldn't have allowed that. She is standing outside the house, waiting for us. There is another woman, who I don't recall seeing before, there as well. I ignore her for the time being and walk up to my mother and hug her. I can't stop the tears that are streaming down my face again, and I find that I don't even mind. I guess Kathryn does cry, after all. But these are happy tears, being in this place makes me forget the guilt and loneliness. Breaking the hug I suddenly see that the other woman has moved over to Mark's side, and is looking curiously at me. And then I realize who she is. This is Mark's wife. 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	4. Part Four - Voyager B

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Four - Voyager B **   
  
  
_Three weeks have passed since I went back to my mother's house in Indiana. The first thing I do every morning is to go outside. The phenomenon of weather and seasons is all new to me again, and I find it endlessly fascinating. My mother, on the other hand, gets up every morning, walks over to the window to see me standing in the garden staring at the sky or just smelling the wind, and shakes her head. She hasn't called any of the counselors yet, though, but I'm sure she thinks I'm a bit crazy. Come to think of it, I think she's always thought of me as a bit crazy.   
  
Harry called me two days ago. I was surprised to say the least. He just smiled and said something along the lines of 'Thought I'd find you there'. Apparently, he had looked up 'Janeway' in the phonebook and had intended on calling every one of them until he found the right one. So very Harry-like. He's become very brave these last seven years. The Harry Kim I first met at Deep Space Nine wouldn't have done something like that. He was lucky, though, the first Janeway he called was indeed my mother. Still, I was surprised that he called at all, although I probably shouldn't be. He said his parents wanted to meet me, since he had talked so much about me. I wonder what he's told them... They wanted to invite me to dinner. But since Mum and I had planned to have some people over tonight, I invited Harry and his parents to join us for dinner instead. What a strange gathering it'll be. Harry Kim and his parents, me, Mum, Phoebe and her fiancé Steven (lovely man by the way, a blonde, handsome, intelligent artist, so much like Phoebe herself), and Mark and Layla. Layla is Mark's wife, the woman I first met three weeks ago. As it turns out, they now live in Mark's parents' old house, not far from my mother's house, and they were just taking a walk that day when they decided to stop by to see how my mother was doing. Layla is... very different from me. I think both she and I were relieved to find that out. I think she was a bit afraid to meet me and find out that Mark had chosen to marry a copy of his old fiancée. He hadn't. They seem to be much better for each other than Mark and I ever were, which makes me feel both happy and sad at the same time. But when the initial awkwardness wore off, I find she really is a lovely person. I like her. Anyway, the food is in the oven, the table is set, I'm dressed in the new dress I got the afternoon I was going to the Paris' house. All that's missing now are the guests. And since they'll be here any minute I better join Mum downstairs._   
  
  
  
I put my diary on my bedside table and make my way down the stairs. I find Mum sitting in the garden sipping a drink. I get a drink myself and then I join her.   
  
I look up at the clear blue sky as I sit down beside her. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"   
  
She looks at me, ignoring my words. "How are you doing, Kathy?"   
  
I lower my head to look at her questionly. "What do you mean? I'm fine."   
  
"I'm your mother. I know you better than that."   
  
"I **am** fine, Mum. Really. It just... it feels strange. I guess I just have to get used to being on Earth again. And I miss my crew..."   
  
"That's it, isn't it?" She pauses for a second before she continues. "In the letters you wrote from Voyager, you often spoke of your first officer, Chakotay. As if he were a friend."   
  
"That's because he is."   
  
"How come you haven't spoken of him once since you got back, then?"   
  
I sigh. "He's recently become involved with Seven, you know the former Borg I told you about." She nods so I continue. "I think they probably want some privacy."   
  
"And...?"   
  
I sigh again, but can't help but smile at my mother. "I just don't feel very comfortable around them. It's a bit awkward for some reason."   
  
She lifts her eyebrows and I know she is about to ask some question I won't be able to answer. Thankfully, Harry and his parents appear at the garden gate that moment. Eagerly, I get up and walk towards them. From the corner of my eye I can see that Mum is following me a few steps behind.   
  
Harry is smiling broadly. "Captain!"   
  
I'm wearing a smile to match his, and I open my arms. "Harry!"   
  
He kiss my cheek and we embrace. It's a long, warm hug.   
  
"How are you Harry?"   
  
We hold each other at arms length, surveying each other, exchanging smiles and glances.   
  
"I'm just fine, Captain. How are you? You look great."   
  
Knowing Harry, and seeing his looks, that last sentence has a double meaning. He is referring to my looking healthy as well as my physical appearance. I flash him a half-fake shy smile. "Thank you, Harry. And my name is Kathryn." I wink at him.   
  
He smiles and tilts his head a little, to acknowledge that. Then he turns towards his parents, who are watching us curiously. Suddenly, I realize that the way Harry and I greeted each other wasn't exactly professional, and that his parents might think I have some sort of hidden agenda with their young handsome son. Stealing a glance at my mother I find a similar expression on her face. Surely she doesn't think that I would... with a man more than ten years younger than me? An officer under my command? Obviously she does. I have to talk to her about that later.   
  
"Mum, Dad... this is Captain Janeway...." He smiles and looks apologetically at me. "Sorry... Kathryn..." Harry flashes another smile in my direction and gestures towards his parents before he continues. "Kathryn, meet my parents."   
  
I reach out to shake hands with Mr. and Mrs. Kim. They both embrace me, thanking me for bringing their son home. I repeat the words I said to Owen Paris, that we all did it together, but this time, my heart is filled with joy. Harry is standing beside us looking very pleased and... proud? Harry Kim is proud of me? Now there's a thought. A comforting thought, though, however strange it may be.   
  
The evening is wonderful. I find that I laugh a lot, more than I can remember doing in a very long time. My mother and Harry's parents, who are almost the same age, get along wonderfully. I find myself talking mostly with Harry. I guess we both need to get a few things about coming back to Earth off our chests. After a wonderful dinner and dessert, I decide it's time we had coffee, so I excuse myself and go indoors to make coffee.   
  
I don't notice Mark following me until he speaks. "So. What's with you and that handsome young ensign?"   
  
I turn around and stare at him. "What?"   
  
"Oh, come on, Kath. It's obvious Harry adores you. And you've spent almost the whole evening talking only to each other."   
  
I almost laugh. "Mark. No. Whatever gave you that idea? We're friends. I don't know if Harry adores me, but if he does, it's not the way you think. And as for us talking, well... I guess we both feel like we don't really fit in anywhere on Earth anymore... or don't fit in here yet - I'm not sure which."   
  
Mark is obviously feeling bold, perhaps he's had a glass of wine too many, I don't know. Or maybe I'm just not used to being asked questions like these. No one on Voyager would ever be this blunt with me. Except perhaps Seven.   
  
"So who's the lucky guy, then? Don't tell me you've spent seven years alone."   
  
"No, I haven't been alone." I smile at him sadly, before I continue. "But there is no lucky guy."   
  
His eyes open wide at what he thinks I'm saying. "You're saying... you prefer girls now?"   
  
"No. No, Mark, I don't. You've known me long enough to know my preferences." I smile a crooked smile at him. "It's rather complicated to explain, ok? Another time."   
  
I see Mark open his mouth to say something, but right then the computer terminal in the living room alerts us of an incoming call.   
  
"I'll get the call, you get the coffee. I still can't make good coffee." Mark says and leaves the room.   
  
Saved by the bell, I think, and proceed to make coffee. But Mark calls me into the living room almost immediately. "Kath! It's for you!"   
  
My thoughts immediately go to Chakotay. Damn that man for appearing in my thoughts all the time. I both hope it's him and hope it's not him. I feel both disappointed and relieved at the same time when I find that the face on the terminal screen is Admiral Owen Paris. "Owen!" I say, surprised.   
  
"Hello, Kathryn. Do you have a minute?"   
  
"Sure," I say and sit down.   
  
"I know it's late but I just found out that a Voyager B is going to be built and you've been offered the position of her Captain. I thought you'd like to know immediately."   
  
My face lights up and I see Owen Paris smile a content smile at my reaction. "I thought you'd be happy about it."   
  
"Happy?! Owen, this is fantastic!"   
  
"There's more. All members of your crew that wish to continue to serve under you will be allowed to do so. And all of you that wish to be a part of the building of Voyager B will also be allowed to do so. To make you all feel at home."   
  
"Oh!" I really can't think of anything else to say. I'm so happy. I feel like I've just been given permission to return home.   
  
"You're the first to be told. Well, Tom and B'Elanna know too. They told me to tell you that they're going to come with you. Miral, too. B'Elanna is already writing specifications for the engines."   
  
I smile. Just like B'Elanna. "Thank you. Thank you so much! These are wonderful news."   
  
"Of course, you won't be going off on any deep space missions for a while. Nothing further away than Bajor. I hope that's ok."   
  
I smile. Seven years in the Delta Quadrant will make any mission seem like it's nearby. "I think we all will want to stay in close contact with Earth for a while."   
  
"Good. There'll be a meeting about this some time next week, but I'll call you about that on Monday. Have a nice evening, Captain. "   
  
"You too, Owen. Give my love to Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral. And thank you."   
  
He nods and then the screen goes black. I sit there for a little while, trying to grasp what the Admiral just said. A Voyager B, built for us, by our specifications! I've got to go tell Harry!   
  
I go outdoors to find Harry standing under the apple tree, talking to my mother about the tree. What a strange sight. But right now that's not important. "Harry! Harry, they're building a Voyager B. Admiral Paris just called me."   
  
My heart fills with joy when I see his face light up like mine did when Owen told me the news. Harry doesn't say anything but simply scoops me up in a spontaneous hug. As he puts me down on the ground again, there is a moment of awkwardness between us and a strange look in his eyes that I find a little frightening. I realize that we're standing there, staring at each other, while everyone else is watching us. I snap out of it. "So you might have to start calling me Captain again pretty soon," I say, trying to lighten the mood.   
  
"Yes, ma'am!" he replies, teasingly.   
  
I look at him as sternly as I can at the moment. "It's not crunch time yet, Ensign."   
  
"Speaking of which, when are you going to promote me?"   
  
"How does next week sound?" 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	5. Part Five - Starfleet Headquarters

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Five -Starfleet Headquarters **   
  
  
_I am back at Starfleet Headquarters now. It's a bit more joyful than last time I was here, though. More and more of my crewmembers have been arriving over the last few days for the festivities and the meeting. I have not seen Chakotay, though. Or Seven. I wonder where they are. I hope my brooding hasn't made them feel alien to the rest of us. _   
  
  
  
I don't know what else to write, so I close the diary and sip my coffee while I look out over Starfleet's vast garden two floors below. I freeze, with the cup to my lips, as I see someone resembling Chakotay walking up one of the paths. It's funny how my heart still beats faster when I see him, even after all these years, and after all that's been tearing us away from each other. I wish I could just make my heart realize that I lost my chance, that it will never be. It would be so much easier. I follow the man that resembles Chakotay as he walks closer to the house I'm in, anticipation is building. But then he lifts his face in my direction and I see that's it not Chakotay at all. And my heart sinks. Slowly I lower the cup from my lips and put it back on the table. He's not here. He won't come. He and Seven are probably building themselves a nice home somewhere, far from Starfleet and the vast expanses of space. I can imagine his strong hands building her a log cabin, in some remote part of a mountain chain somewhere. Maybe he's even making her a bathtub. Anger is rising in me at that thought. Not anger with him or her, but with the cruel jokes fate always seem to make at my expense. A thought about it being time to get ready for the party nestles itself into my mind, so I walk into my bathroom and pour myself a luxurious scented bath. And I daydream of a garden with Talaxian tomatoes, next to a gray cabin on a now distant planet somewhere in the Delta Quadrant. I dream of a time when I was certain that Chakotay and I would spend the rest of our lives together. I dream of New Earth.   
  
Later the same evening during the party, after Harry's promotion and all the cheers that followed, I find that my eyes are still roaming the room looking for a hint of the familiar sight of Chakotay. But, of course, he isn't there. I stand in a corner of the room trying to smile and be happy as I watch my crew members and their families mingle and dance, laugh and talk. But I think that most of the people in the room know me well enough to see through my facade.   
  
I sense, rather than see, B'Elanna come up to stand by my side. For a while, she just stands there, sipping her wine and looking out over the crowd with me. Then she speaks. "He hasn't returned my calls either."   
  
She is of course talking about Chakotay. It surprises me that he isn't even keeping in touch with B'Elanna. Perhaps it's not my awkwardness towards him that's keeping him away after all. I don't mention that I did contact him, or that I hung up on him. Thankfully, B'Elanna continues talking. "Tom and Harry are over by that table." She nods in their direction.   
  
I follow her gaze to see Tom and Harry sitting at a table, looking at us.   
  
"Why don't you join us?" she asks. "Harry said he'd buy you a drink as a thanks for the promotion."   
  
"Oh, he shouldn't be thanking me. He should be making me buy him drinks for waiting so long with giving him that promotion." For the first time since she came up to me, I look at B'Elanna, and for the first time tonight, I feel that my smile is genuine. I decide to go with her to Tom's and Harry's table.   
  
The night turns out to be surprisingly enjoyable. I spend most of the time at the table with Harry, Tom, and B'Elanna. And for the first time, I feel as if we're equals. Not that I consider myself better than them, it's just that I always felt like they were keeping their distance from me because I'm their captain. But not tonight. It's wonderful. Harry keeps getting me drinks, and before I know it, it's late and almost everyone has left the party. Tom and B'Elanna excuse themselves, saying it's late and that they should be getting back. I smile and thank them for a wonderful evening, making no attempt at leaving myself. When they've gone, I turn back to Harry, and am frightened by what I see. I no longer see the young, inexperienced ensign who thinks of me as his surrogate mother. From the look on his face I know he doesn't see me like that anymore either. I see a handsome, polite, kind, and caring young man who I am attracted to. That's what frightens me. I get up, suddenly. This can't be happening. I can't allow this to happen.   
  
"I think I'll retire, too," I mumble "Thank you for a lovely evening, Harry."   
  
He gets up, just as abruptly. Obviously he doesn't want to let go. Inwardly, I beg him to stay away—this isn't right. Doesn't he see what will happen if I don't leave right now?   
  
"Let me walk you to your quarters."   
  
I start to object, but he has already taken me by the arm and is leading me out of the ballroom. I follow, numbly. Not believing what I'm doing. Of course, he's not leading me to my quarters, but his own. And I go inside with him.   
  
Then everything happens so quickly. He kisses me and it feels so good that I don't even resist. It's all very flattering, and I really am attracted to Harry. His kiss is wonderful, sensual, and makes me feel like a woman again. Makes me feel like Kathryn. His hands start to unbutton my blouse and his lips are hot against my neck.   
  
"What's happening, Harry?" I ask him between my gasps.   
  
"I don't know, Captain. But I like it."   
  
"Me too." I whisper, and give in to the sensations.   
  
I wake up to the lingering memory of sweet lovemaking. I slowly open my eyes and look out through the window in Harry's quarters. The sky is bright pink. Dawn. I catch movement from the corner of my eye and turn my head to face Harry. He's leaning on his elbow, studying me. When I catch his eye, he smiles that wide warm smile of his. "Good morning, Kathryn."   
  
I smile back at him. To my surprise, it's not one bit awkward waking up in Harry's bed. I shudder from residual pleasure as I think about the night. The way he touched me. Gently, reverently. It all fills me with warmth. It's a feeling I cherish. I'm torn from my thoughts at the sound of his voice.   
  
"Thank you."   
  
I look at him questionly. **He** is thanking **me**? "For what, Harry?"   
  
He smiles again, an almost shy smile this time. "For letting me get to know this part of you. For showing me this side of you." Then he leans in to gently touch my cheek. "You're so beautiful."   
  
"Harry... I..."   
  
"Hush. You are. "   
  
I look at him in amazement as he leans in to kiss me. It's a sweet and joyous kiss and I respond eagerly. And we make love again, with no darkness to shield us this time.   
  
I'm cradling a cup of hot coffee from Harry's replicator. It's close to noon, but I don't feel the least bit guilty for sleeping so late. A night like tonight will surely never happen again, and I find that I don't really want to leave, don't want to let go.   
  
Then the doorbell rings, and I see the look on Harry's face. Fear. Of us being detected, no doubt. For a moment I feel hurt, but then I realize that it's not that he's ashamed that I'm there, but that he's afraid someone might think strange things of the Captain. But I stay in the sofa as he gets up to open the door when the doorbell sounds a second time.   
  
"All right. I'm coming."   
  
I would have smiled at his mutterings if it wasn't for the fact that deep down I'm a bit frightened too. Of what people might think of their almighty captain when they realize she really is only human. When the door opens, I hear the cheerful voice of Tom Paris. "Good morning, Harry. Slept late?"   
  
"Go away, Tom."   
  
"Why? You got a woman in there with you or something?" I can see Tom craning his neck, attempting to see past Harry.   
  
"Yes. Now go away."   
  
"You **do**?! Well... who is it? The only one I saw you talking to last night was the...." Tom goes quiet and I know what he's about to say. The Captain.   
  
I sigh. I know what he's about to realize and decide I might as well beat him to it. "Let him in, Harry." I say and stand up from the sofa.   
  
"Captain..." I hear Tom finish his sentence, looking straight at me now that Harry moved out of the way to let him in.   
  
I straighten a little bit, taking a stand. "Yes," I say.   
  
Tom is still staring at me, then his gaze turns to Harry. "But..."   
  
Harry moves over to my side and wraps his arm protectively around me. "But what, Tom?" he says defensively.   
  
It's such a sweet, and totally unexpected, gesture. I can't help but smile at him.   
  
Tom gathers his composure quickly. "But nothing," he says and smiles that all-knowing smile of his. "Have fun, kids."   
  
Then he's out the door again, whistling to himself for some reason, leaving Harry and me looking curiously after him. 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	6. Part Six - Harry

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Six - Harry **   
  
  
_During the last few weeks I've found myself in Harry's company more and more often. Both as a friend and as a lover. I still can't quite believe it myself. Tom is just grinning about the whole affair, and B'Elanna looks curiously at me every time we meet. I'd be looking curiously at me too, to tell you the truth. No one else has been told, but it's quite obvious. It was hard enough to keep a secret on Voyager, and here it's ever harder. We're about 70 of Voyager's crew working on this project, and we rarely spend time with anyone outside that group. So, I think it's safe to say that they all know about me and Harry. Me and Harry. That sounds so funny. What really bothers me is that Mark, of all people, saw this weeks ago. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, though. He's known me most of my life, after all. Speaking of Mark, I'm having dinner with him tonight. He called me the other day, saying he'd be in San Francisco for a week. Then he asked if we could meet. Remembering the promise I made to myself that first night back in Indiana, I gratefully accepted.   
  
The work is progressing wonderfully, though I doubt the value of my presence. I think my qualities will be more useful once we get that ship into space._   
  
  
  
The terminal alerts me of an incoming call, so I close the diary and slide off the bed. I'm in Harry's quarters, and since I'm having the day off, I'm still only dressed in a gown. Thinking that it's probably Tom or B'Elanna calling, I don't bother thinking about not being properly dressed. I just slide into the chair by Harry's computer terminal, and activate it. A moment later, I look into the intense blue eyes of Seven.   
  
"Captain."   
  
"Seven," I say, perplexed. How did she know I was here? Or didn't she? Is she perhaps looking for Harry? Yes, that must be it. I find myself blushing a little of how this must look. Myself, dressed only in my gown, in Harry's quarters, obviously having slept there.   
  
"I was told I could find you there, Captain."   
  
No. She wasn't looking for Harry. I feel one of my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Who told you that, Seven?" Oh, God. I haven't talked to her for weeks, and the first thing I do is interrogate her.   
  
"When I was unsuccessful in reaching you at your own terminal, I contacted Lieutenant Paris to enquire if he had any knowledge of your whereabouts. I've been looking for you, Captain."   
  
Oh, wonderful. Now I'm feeling guilty again. "I'm so sorry for not staying in touch with you, Seven," I say, and I do mean it. "I really am," I add as an afterthought.   
  
She nods in acknowledgement of that statement, and a strange look pass over her features. Is that hurt? She really is learning all the human emotions the hard way. Then that look is replaced by another. Uncertainty? "I... was hoping we might be able to rectify that."   
  
"Of course, Seven. What did you have in mind?" I cringe at my own words. What am I saying? I do want to see her, but it will be very strange to see her with Chakotay. It will be... painful. And he will most certainly be wherever Seven is.   
  
"I am staying with Commander Tuvok and his family on Vulcan now."   
  
I feel the surprise etched on my face again. Maybe Chakotay won't be there after all. I have a hard time imagining him with Tuvok on Vulcan, anyway.   
  
"I'd like to invite you to visit us," she continues and looks at me with that uncertainty in her eyes again. It's been a long time since I'd been on Vulcan, and I haven't seen either Tuvok or Seven for far too long.   
  
I accept. "I'd love that, Seven," I say and smile. "Just let me arrange some free time. How soon do you want me to come to Vulcan? Is next week ok?"   
  
She smiles, the uncertainty replaced by joy. I feel the knife that's my guilt turn in me again. Yet, her smile also warms me.   
  
"That would be a satisfactory. I'll see you then. Seven out."   
  
"See you soon, Seven. Bye."   
  
It's another few hours before Harry gets home, and I spend the time thinking about our situation and this... relationship. I guess I'm just realizing that that's what it's turning into. Yet, I'm not in love with Harry, and I doubt that he is in love with me. Oh, we love each other, at least I love him. But not this way. I love Harry Kim, the officer assigned to Ops, and Harry Kim, my friend. I think that most of all, I am flattered by the fact that he is attracted to me, and that he is flattered that I'm attracted to him. By the time he gets home I have decided. I know what I have to do. This has gone on far too long already.   
  
"Harry."   
  
My solemn look alerts him and he sits down beside me on the sofa. Quietly, he's waiting for me to speak.   
  
"Seven called me earlier," I say, "she invited me to visit her and Tuvok on Vulcan."   
  
Harry looks surprised for a moment. I think he expected me to say something completely different. Then realization dawns on his handsome face. He knows what I'm going to say but is waiting for me to say the words.   
  
"When I get back..." I look at him apologetically, "maybe we shouldn't be seeing each other anymore."   
  
He nods. "I understand. Really." He smiles at me, but his smile is a little sad. After a few moments silence he speaks again, humor in his voice. "Should have known I wouldn't be able to keep you."   
  
I smile back at him, and then lean in to press my lips to his, gently. "Thank you, Harry. It's been a wonderful few weeks. It's been a long time since I've felt like a woman, and not just the Captain."   
  
His next words surprise me, though in the light of the events of the last few weeks, maybe it shouldn't. "I've never seen you as just the Captain, Kathryn."   
  
I get ready and leave for my dinner appointment with Mark in silence, taking the bags with my belongings with me as I leave. Our goodbye is short, and genuine in a way that warms my heart. No words, no tears, no touches. Just exchanged looks and smiles, then I'm out the door.   
  
After an enjoyable dinner with Mark, I walk back to the Starfleet hotel we're all staying in. It's a beautiful night. There's a faint touch of fall in the air, but the sky is clear and I can see my beloved stars. When I reach my room, I stop outside, my hand raised to enter the entrance code. Then I change my mind; I lower my hand and walk to the other side of the hotel, to Harry's room, and silently let myself in. I'm not sure why, except that it feels right. The room is dark save for the moonlight coming in through the big windows. Harry is asleep; I hear his soft snoring, and see the steady rise and fall of his chest where he's sprawled out over the bed. Quickly and silently I undress, walk over to the bed, and slide in under the covers.   
  
He stirs, and turns to me. "Kathryn?" His voice is groggy, and he looks both surprised and sleepy. Not quite awake.   
  
"Yes," I say. He's starting to say something, but I continue. "I remember what I said, Harry. It still stands. But I said **after** I got back from Vulcan." I smile a little at him, trying to read his expression. "I haven't even left yet."   
  
He doesn't say anything, just smiles at me and draws me to him. 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	7. Part Seven - Vulcan

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Seven - Vulcan **   
  
  
_I don't know what got into me the other night. I had settled everything with Harry. Or so I thought. When I got back after my dinner with Mark, I didn't go to my own quarters. I went to Harry's. He was a bit surprised that I was there, but he didn't seem to mind... The lovemaking we shared was beyond most of my earlier experiences. I find that strange, since I'm not in love with Harry. But then, maybe that's why. We could give in to passion and attraction without thinking about the consequences. It's over now, though. I didn't see him after that night, only professionally, and never alone. And now I'm on my way to Vulcan to meet with Seven, and with Tuvok and his family. It's strange to imagine Seven there, after fighting so hard with releasing her human emotions. But maybe the decision to let the Doctor perform the procedure that removed her Borg fail-safe left her bewildered and overwhelmed. I can think of no other reason to why she would choose to stay on Vulcan. I guess I'll just have to ask her when I get there.   
  
Mark has left me in a strange nostalgic mood. The dinner was lovely, and so was the lunch we shared the next day. I haven't laughed that much in years. He always knew how to cheer me up. But then he started talking about us. Me and him. He started talking about how he felt when I was lost, how he had lived in my house even after I was declared 'missing, presumed dead.' It touched me, and I could do nothing but stare at him in awe. He really did love me. Not in the comfortable way I loved him; he loved me with a fierce, all-consuming love. I can't believe I never realized that. Not until now. Time passed so quickly for me, and even though I, too, had started to let go, his letter hurt me in a way I never thought possible. Because he had left me. Not like Justin, who was ripped away from me; not like any of the others, where the relationship had just ebbed out until it was nothing and we parted in peace. Mark left me. For him, years of pain had passed. Years of grief and longing. Then Layla came along, showing him a way to heal. I think what he told me gave me some perspective on my own pain. It had been nothing compared to his. And I found that I still love him. It's the same love I use to feel for him, only now it's more of a dull ache. He will always be a very dear friend. He always has been.   
  
That makes me think of the man who was my friend, but wanted to be more. Oh, why am I lying to myself? I wanted us to be more. But I let fear come in the way. Too many misunderstandings left unsolved. Too much grief, pain, and guilt. The funny thing is, that right now, that pile of rubbish that's keeping us apart, is growing bigger. Because I'm letting it. Yet, I don't know how to confront him. I don't know how to break free of the vines of mistrust and anger that's holding me from him. And now there's a new fear as well; the fear of rejection. Why do I have to be such a coward when it comes to my own emotions? I never was before. Why am I acting this way with him?   
  
Maybe a few weeks on Vulcan will clear my mind. Tuvok has that effect on me, and being with Tuvok on Vulcan can only enhance that effect. It will give me a chance to meditate with him, spend quiet moments of reflection, and maybe revive my friendship with Seven._   
  
  
  
I put the diary aside, and look out the shuttle's window. The stars are streaking past, and oddly, that's a comforting sight. I didn't realize I had become so restless. But I guess being torn away from everything you know and being away from all that for seven years, can have that effect on a person. Now I know why I never felt at ease on Earth. The stars weren't streaking past my window, they were fixed in the sky. I was standing still, not going anywhere.   
  
A handsome young Vulcan, one of the transport's stewards, approaches me and asks if I would like some coffee. I accept, and he delivers it without a word. When I smile and thank him, he nods and says "You're welcome." Unemotional, but not uncaring. Logical, but not cunning. And blissfully calm. Yes, Vulcan will be good for me. The comforting, intelligent logic will surely ease my turbulent soul. 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	8. Part Eight - A mission

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Eight - A mission **   
  
  
_Vulcan is all the tranquility I hoped for. It is, as always, extremely logical. Right now that's exactly what I need. I've seen Tuvok reclaim his role as a family father, seen the pride, however illogical, he harbors for his now grown children and young grandchildren. I've seen him settle into his newfound role as Seven's guide in human emotions. An unlikely scenario, it seems, but not so strange as it seems. Perhaps Tuvok's detachment is helping her understand, and to some degree control, her recently unleashed emotions. I've spent days meditating with Tuvok, something I've never done. I regret that, but I guess I haven't needed it before. It has helped me reach clarity about some things. About a lot of things, actually.   
  
Seven seems at peace, happy, and more human than I've ever seen her before. That makes me proud, even though it's been years since she broke free of the bond we shared from the moment I severed her from the Borg collective. It also eases the guilt I still have for those actions. It seems her romantic interest in Chakotay was short-lived, and his for her as well. I guess the Alpha Quadrant came into the picture too quickly for their relationship to survive. We've spent hours talking, and of course we've been talking about Chakotay too, but she has not mentioned why they broke up. I don't feel as uncomfortable talking about their relationship as I did only a month ago. That surprises me slightly, considering the strength of my initial awkwardness and anger at them both. Maybe it's Vulcan, maybe it's the time I spent with Harry, I don't know why. Seven doesn't seem to take the break up too hard, though. I hope the same goes for Chakotay.   
  
I have also had the utter pleasure of getting to know T'Pel, Tuvok's wife. She is a lovely woman. Of course, when I told her that, she only nodded. She is Vulcan after all. And she's not as used to humans, or at least not as used to this particular human, as Tuvok is. Still, she is lovely company, and I've spent enough time around Tuvok to notice her subtle, very subtle, displays of emotion. Like this morning, when their oldest son visited us, with his own son, Tuvok's and T'Pel's grandson. I could see the small ways in which their facial expressions, glances, and voices changed when the child was around.   
  
I can't really say that their emotional control has rubbed off on me, though. I'm as unpredictable as ever. But the tranquility has allowed me to bring out and examine my emotions. Everything seems clearer now._   
  
  
  
"Kathryn."   
  
Tuvok's voice calling me is pulling me back to reality, and I realize I've been sitting with my diary open but not writing, for almost half an hour. I smile up at him, standing in the doorway. When I asked Tuvok to call me Kathryn, he stated that it was illogical, which made me tell him that what was really illogical was calling me 'Captain' when we weren't on duty. So he calls me Kathryn now, albeit very uncomfortably. Poor Tuvok. "Yes?"   
  
"We have received a transmission from Starfleet. Seven is talking to Admiral Paris now. I believe he wishes to speak with you as well."   
  
"Starfleet? What do they want?"   
  
Tuvok reveals not emotion, no clue to whether it's good or bad news. "I think the Admiral would prefer to tell you himself."   
  
"Of course, Tuvok," I say, get up, and leave the room with him. "You're right, as always."   
  
He simply nods at the acknowledgement.   
  
When we reach the main room, where the terminal is, Seven is just getting up from the chair. I try to make eye contact with her, but she doesn't look at me. I look at her curiously as she leaves the room, then sit down in front the screen displaying Admiral Paris' face.   
  
"Admiral," I say, as this is obviously not a social call. I see Tuvok walk out of the room as well, leaving me to talk to the Admiral privately.   
  
"Captain," he says, equally formal. "How is Vulcan?"   
  
"Logical," I deadpan.   
  
A small smile grace the Admiral's face at my words. "Of course," he says. "Well, to the point. We have a mission for you."   
  
"A mission? For who?"   
  
"For Voyager."   
  
"But she's not built..." I start, thinking he's talking about the Voyager being built. Then I realize my mistake "Oh! you mean **our** Voyager, the old one."   
  
"Yes," he says, "with her old crew. We're trying to round up everyone. Can I count on her Captain agreeing?"   
  
"That depends on the mission, Admiral."   
  
"I see you've inherited your father's skeptical side," Admiral Paris says and smiles.   
  
I simply nod. My father **did** raise me to be a skeptical.   
  
"We need someone to deliver supplies from Earth to a science station in on of Bajor's neighboring systems. If you agree, you will leave in one month. The duration of the mission will be six months, the science station also need the help of a few able scientists and engineers for a while."   
  
The Admiral studies me intently as I think about what to answer, trying to gauge my reaction. If it weren't for his last words about them needing scientific help, I might have objected, saying that Voyager wasn't a supply shuttle. But I probably would have agreed anyway. I'm dying to get back into space.   
  
"Yes," I say, lifting my chin, "I'm in. How many of the rest of the crew have agreed to this?"   
  
"We've only talked to the senior staff yet," he says, and then looks down before continuing, raising my suspicion. "All but one of them have agreed."   
  
"Who hasn't agreed?" I ask, a little too quickly. I have a bad feeling about this.   
  
"Commander Chakotay," he says, confirming my suspicions.   
  
"Where can I find him?"   
  
"I'm sorry, Captain, but he has requested that his whereabouts remain a secret."   
  
"Owen..." I say, my voice lowered, "I'm not just anyone. Please... tell me."   
  
He sighs slightly, turns his head from the screen. I have a feeling he's giving up a bit too easily, but I'm not going to argue with him about that. "I suspected you'd react like this. He is on Dorvan. I'm forwarding the details."   
  
"Thank you," I say as the information appears on the screen. "I'll talk to you later, Admiral. Give my best to Tom and B'Elanna."   
  
He smiles and nods, then terminates the link.   
  
I call Dorvan immediately. I'm furious at him for not agreeing. Which is good, because it momentarily overshadows all the other emotions he stirs in me. My thoughts are ended abruptly when someone answers my call.   
  
"Yes? Can I help you?" The pleasant face of a beautiful woman fills the screen.   
  
A thought that she might be the reason why Chakotay doesn't want to leave flashes through my mind, thinking that he might already have found someone else to share his life with. Then I notice the similarities. This must be Chakotay's sister.   
  
"Hello," I say, as pleasantly as I can muster, "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway. I'm looking for Chakotay."   
  
She glances to her side quickly, then turns back to me. "I'm sorry," she says apologetically, "Chakotay does not wish to speak with anyone from Starfleet."   
  
Anger boils up in me again. Just who does he think he is?! I'm willing myself to calm down, and take a deep breath before I speak again. "I'm not from Starfleet," I say, then, I take a chance. "I'm a friend."   
  
"Oh," she says, uncertain to how to reply. Then she glances to her side again, probably at Chakotay.   
  
"Please," I say, quietly.   
  
Then he comes into view. His big hand on her shoulder is the first of him I see, and I can't help but stare, mesmerized.   
  
"It's ok," he says to the woman I hope is his sister. She moves away and he takes the seat in front of the terminal, and I find myself speechless. I had forgotten how handsome he is in civilian clothing, and I had forgotten how strong the pull of my attraction towards him was. Now it's all coming back to me, a bit too clearly.   
  
"Kathryn?" he says, not knowing how to interpret my staring. I mentally shake myself. Just say what you called him to say.   
  
"Chakotay," I say, "I just received a call from Admiral Paris about a mission. I understand you turned him down?"   
  
"That's correct," he says calmly.   
  
"Why?"   
  
"I don't need to explain myself to you."   
  
Again, fury at him takes the lead. "No," I say, willing myself to stay calm, "you don't. But as your friend, I'd like to know."   
  
"Don't friends usually stay in contact? I haven't heard anything from you since we came back to Earth?"   
  
"You haven't called either."   
  
"I didn't feel comfortable calling you in Harry's room," he says, eyes blazing.   
  
I cringe. How did he found out? Does everyone know? The momentary embarrassment is immediately replaced by anger, though. "Well I didn't feel comfortable calling you in Seven's room," I retort.   
  
"In any case, I'm not sure I can serve under you knowing you're sleeping with Harry Kim."   
  
This disagreement is turning into a row, but I don't care. He has just crossed the line. "I served with you while you were sleeping with Seven. What's the difference?"   
  
"Seven and I broke up."   
  
"Well Harry and I broke up."   
  
There is a moment's silence and I suddenly realize just how childish we're acting. I can't help but chuckle.   
  
"What?!" he says, still angry.   
  
"Listen to us, Chakotay," I say softly, "we're behaving like children."   
  
He doesn't say anything, but his expression is growing softer. I take on a different approach. "Please," I say, pleading with him. "Please come home. Come back to Voyager with me."   
  
My words obviously stuck a chord, because his expression changes from anger and bewilderment into something resembling hope and longing. But he doesn't say anything so I reach out and put my hand on the screen. "I need you, Chakotay. I need my friend and I need my First Officer."   
  
It's an admission I hadn't planned on making, but it's nevertheless true. And it's obviously working, because suddenly he is looking into my eyes through the screen, and is reaching out to touch the part of the screen where I'm holding my hand, as if we could touch through the computer link. It's so much like another time when we held hands, after a very different conversation, on a very different planet. In a very different life. Images of New Earth come into my mind, unbidden. Then he speaks.   
  
"Ok," he says, softly, "I'll come."   
  
When I've ended the call I notice that my hands are shaking, and I feel strangely nervous. It's not an emotion I'm used to, being the alleged fearless Starfleet Captain. I bury my face in my hands, both to stop my hands from shaking, and to calm myself. I see a shadow from the corner of my eye, and lift my face to see T'Pel sitting next to me.   
  
"Is Commander Chakotay the source of your distress?" she asks me.   
  
I smile a little. Such a Vulcan question. "He is also the source of my well-being," I say.   
  
T'Pel nods. "Perhaps you should tell him that."   
  
I draw in a shaky breath. "Yes," I say quietly, "I'm going to. It's just... hard."   
  
"It is only as hard as you make it."   
  
I smile at her again. She is of course completely right. I just have to learn not to make things so hard for myself. "You're a wise woman, T'Pel. I'm honored to call you my friend," I say, and wish I could take her hand. But she, being Vulcan, would not recognize that as the friendly gesture it is.   
  
To my surprise, she puts her hand on mine instead. "So am I, Kathryn." 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	9. Part Nine - Home

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Nine - Home **   
  
  
_I've never been one to put much faith in religions or gods, but this morning, when I was in the shuttle on my way to Voyager, I had an experience that can only be described as divine. I was in the shuttle's front seat, impatiently awaiting a glimpse of Voyager. Then the pilot turned the shuttle around and she came into view. Well, she practically filled the view screen. So beautiful against the background of the stars it took my breath away. A big grin spread across my face, and the young pilot by my side only smiled at me. Not noticing what I did at first, my hands reached towards the shuttle's view port, as if I could touch her. Voyager. There will never be another ship quite like her. I doubt that there ever has been before.   
  
I have to give my compliments to the crew that did her overhaul. They've cleaned her up nicely, both interior and the exterior. She's shining so much I'd think she was brand new if I didn't know better. They've done a few diagnostics, but barely touched her systems. I doubt that any Starfleet crew, except the one that has spent seven years on board her, can figure out just how Voyager's systems work. She is better stocked than she's ever been before, though, so there won't be any rationing this time. I'm going to ask Chell to continue to serve as the chef anyway, but only because it was nice to have a mess hall with a chef, not because we have to.   
  
I was the first one to arrive, but I know that the others will be arriving tomorrow. Not having rooted myself anywhere these last few months, I requested permission to get back on board Voyager as quickly as possible. I didn't have many possessions to collect, I just took my bags and went to stay with my mother on Earth, eagerly waiting for permission to embark. I did stop by Starfleet Headquarters to pick up the Doctor, but he is only a shining piece of mobile emitter right now. I hope he won't be angry with me for keeping him deactivated for a few extra hours. I just wanted to be alone with Voyager for a little while. I've been walking her half-lit and deserted corridors, running my hands along the bulkheads. Talking to her. Reassuring her that the whole family soon will be gathered within her hull again. I'm glad I'm all alone. If anyone had seen me talking to an empty ship, they'd definitely call a counselor.   
  
I'm on the bridge now, Earth displayed on the view screen, an empty cup beside me. I think it's time I woke the Doctor up._   
  
  
  
"Please state the nature..." he starts in his usual brisk manner, then goes quiet. His voice grows softer at the sight of me in my chair on the barely lit bridge. "Oh, hello Captain!"   
  
"Kathryn," I say and smile, "I'm not on duty yet." It may seem silly, but I like being called Kathryn, and I'll make sure everyone that I consider a friend calls me that off duty from now on.   
  
"Of course," the Doctor says, "Kathryn." He looks around and lets out a small sigh.   
  
I get up to stand beside him. "It's nice to be back, isn't it?" I say.   
  
He only nods.   
  
"What do you say we go to the mess hall and have a cup of coffee? I heard they've put up holographic emitters in there. So you can have a drink too, if you like."   
  
That peaks his interest. "Really? I didn't know that."   
  
"Me neither, not until this morning, anyway. There are holographic emitters installed on the bridge and in the transporter room too." I was quite surprised when I was told about it, all I had asked for was that one of the quarters would be equipped with emitters. And when the planning and construction of Voyager B had started, I thought they'd forgotten about the first Voyager altogether. I'm glad they hadn't.   
  
"Oh," he says happily, "that was very considerate."   
  
"There are of course emitters installed in the Chief Medical Officer's quarters as well," I say and study him, waiting for his reaction.   
  
"Captain?" he says, then shake his head a little. "I mean... Kathryn?"   
  
"Your quarters, Doctor," I say and smile. "If you want them?"   
  
He is glowing with excitement. He puts his arms around me and hugs me tightly for a moment. Then he lets go of me, looking embarrassed. "Sorry, Cap... Kathryn."   
  
I can't help but chuckle. "It's quite all right, Doctor. What do you say we stop by your new quarters on the way to the mess hall?"   
  
"After you," he says and gestures for the turbo lift with barely contained eagerness.   
  
Half an hour later we're sitting side by side in the mess hall, each cradling a cup of steaming coffee. The Doctor's coffee being holographic, of course. He looks content, and I can only assume that he's happy about this newfound freedom of his. It's long overdue anyway. I wish we'd had the resources to give him this years ago. It's funny how I was one of the last persons to stop thinking of him as a machine. The righteous Kathryn Janeway, who considers herself to be so open-minded. Well, better late than never I suppose. "I'm sorry," I say before I have time to think about whether or not to say it.   
  
He looks at me curiously. "For what?"   
  
"For not making sure we got holo-emitters installed in more places earlier. For not getting you quarters. For..." I take a deep breath. "For not accepting you as a person for so long."   
  
He looks at me for a second, with genuine surprise on his face. "Thank you," he says with sincerity in his voice.   
  
We sip our coffee in silence for a while. Then he speaks. "You have seen Seven?"   
  
"Yes," I say, "I just came from Vulcan. She is there with Tuvok and his family. She was well, and seemed very happy."   
  
"Ah," he says.   
  
I wait for the question that I know he wants to ask. He doesn't say anything, though, but I decide to answer the question anyway, even though he hasn't voiced it. "Chakotay is on Dorvan. They've broken up."   
  
"Oh," he says, surprised. A spark of something is lit in his eyes. Hope? But it disappears almost immediately. "That doesn't change anything, though," he says somberly.   
  
"You never know, Doctor," I say, trying to cheer him up. Trying to cheer myself up too, I guess. 'That doesn't change anything.'—I have to believe that maybe it does. I take his hand, offering my support. He smiles a little at me, then turns his gaze back to the stars outside the view port.   
  
I don't know how long we've been sitting like that when the sudden hiss of doors opening shakes us both from our musings. Surprised, I turn to face the doors. The rest of the crew isn't scheduled to start arriving until tomorrow morning. Even though I can't see his face, I immediately know who it is. The dark shape standing by the doors is unmistakable.   
  
"Chakotay," I whisper.   
  
"Kathryn," I hear him reply, and the sound of his voice sends little shivers up my spine. No one says my name quite the way he does. Then he speaks again, a little louder. "Doctor."   
  
The Doctor gets up and moves towards Chakotay.   
  
"Good evening, Commander," he says, cheerfully. Then he looks back at me. "Well, if you both excuse me, I have quarters to decorate. Perhaps you two would like to join me for breakfast in there tomorrow morning?"   
  
Chakotay looks slightly confused. "Quarters?"   
  
"Yes, the Captain has arranged for me to have my own quarters," the Doctor replies proudly.   
  
"I'd love to see them, Doctor. Breakfast it is."   
  
"Good. Kathryn?" the Doctor says and looks at me.   
  
"I'd love to, Doctor. I'll see you in the morning," I say, tearing my gaze from Chakotay.   
  
The Doctor smiles happily, nods, and walks out of the mess hall, leaving me with Chakotay.   
  
A silence follows, and neither one of us moves. Then he starts walking towards me. "How are you, Kathryn?"   
  
"Fine," I say as I watch him approach. "Please, have a seat."   
  
He sits down next to me and looks out the view port in silence for a while. Then he turns to look at me. "Kathryn... I..."   
  
"Hush," I say softly. "Tomorrow. We can talk tomorrow." I don't want to hear any excuses or explanations tonight. I don't want to give any either. I take his hand in mine. "Let's just sit here and enjoy the silence tonight, Chakotay."   
  
He brushes his thumb over my hand, then removes his hand and puts his arm around my shoulders instead. I lean into him, enjoying his warmth and familiar scent. He kisses my hair softly. "It's good to be home," he says.   
  
I know that his words have a double meaning. We used to sit like this on warm evenings on New Earth as well. Embracing, quietly watching the stars. I wonder if our crew would have come back for us if they had known how close we had become. If they had known about the bathtub, the garden, the boat. If they had known that we nearly became lovers. Chakotay and Kathryn, the Adam and Eve of New Earth. I close my eyes for a moment to stop the tears that are threatening to spill at the recollection of the memories. "Yes," I say quietly, "it's good to be home." 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	10. Part Ten - Departure

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Ten – Departure**   
  
  
_Today is the day. We're leaving space dock for our first official Starfleet mission. I know that many of the crew are happy about being full-fledged Starfleet officers, and that others are a bit dazed about it. One thing that's true for all of us is that we're all very happy about going back into space. And this time we won't be tens of thousands of light years from family and friends either. I feel rejuvenated, invigorated, and surprisingly free of guilt. Maybe I'm finally realizing that we actually did it. We did get back home, and in style too. We all got pardoned, and even trusted with carrying out orders from the Starfleet. I realize of course that this little rendezvous is only Starfleet's way of testing us. A benign little mission in the neighborhood to see if we behave and abide by Starfleet standards. We are, after all, Starfleet's lost children, in more sense than one._   
  
  
  
The doorbell chimes, and I call out to Chakotay to enter. I get up and move over to my replicator while the door opens and lets my visitor in.   
  
"Good morning, Chakotay," I say while I still have my back to him, facing the replicator from which I just ordered one cup of coffee and one cup of herbal tea.   
  
"Hello Kathryn," he says, "is it my aftershave you recognize, or did you check with the computer who was at the door?"   
  
I turn to him and smile, giving him the tea. He is smiling too, and for a moment I allow myself the luxury of thinking of how it used to be between us when our journey in the Delta Quadrant started. Exciting, dangerous, and oh, so compelling. And unspoiled. "You told me yesterday you'd come and get me on your way to the bridge, so we'd start the journey together."   
  
His smile grows even wider, and the playful look in his eyes makes my heart beat a little faster. "Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten," he says jokingly.   
  
I gesture for the sofa and we walk over there to sit down. Too late I realize I've left my diary on the table. It peaks his curiosity, of course.   
  
"A diary, Kathryn?"   
  
"Yes," I say and move it out of the way, thanking whatever higher powers that look after me that I hadn't written anything about him on the page that was visible.   
  
"I didn't think you'd choose to use a diary made of paper. I thought you were all computers, pads, and logs."   
  
"Well, it just goes to show you don't know me as well as you thought," I say jokingly, trying to change the subject.   
  
"Can I have a look?" he asks.   
  
My eyebrows shoots up. Doesn't he know what a diary is? It is, above all other things, private. And he's asking to see it.   
  
Then he smiles. "I didn't mean read it, Kathryn." He chuckles. "I meant if I can look at it, on the outside."   
  
"Oh," I say and reluctantly had it over to him, feeling very foolish.   
  
He runs his hands over the smooth black surface of the diary. "The thoughts of Kathryn Janeway. I'd love to look inside," he says and smiles.   
  
"What if you didn't like what you saw?" I ask him, knowing that we're no longer talking about just the diary.   
  
"What if I **did** like it?" he says and looks intently at me.   
  
I can't think of anything to say, I just sit there and look into his eyes. We never had that talk, never exchanged our excuses and explanations. Maybe we should. Right now, there's too much between us that's unresolved. I'm about to speak when my com badge chirps.   
  
"Bridge to the Captain. We're ready for departure."   
  
The voice of Harry Kim sends a multitude of emotions through me, and I can see that Chakotay is experiencing something similar, although with different emotions, I hope. We definitely should talk. But right now, we're needed on the bridge. I get up. "We're on our way, lieutenant. Janeway out."   
  
When I walk onto the bridge, he's two steps behind me, quietly supporting me once again. The words that T'Pel spoke to me just before I left Vulcan rings in my mind. I have no doubt that he knows just how much his support and friendship means to me, but I really should put into words too. Make it visible and tangible. When we sit down in our chairs, I lean over towards him and whisper to him. "How about dinner tonight, Chakotay? My quarters."   
  
"Well that depends," he says and winks at me, "are you cooking?"   
  
I can't help but smile at him and slap him playfully on the arm. I really should tell him how happy I am that we're playing this game again too. I'm not sure he knows just how much it means to me that the spark between us is back. And this time, I might even act on it. "You're welcome to do the cooking if you like," I retort with a fake hurt look on my face.   
  
"Well, in that case, it's a date," he says and flash his dimples at me.   
  
"1900 hours," I say, then I direct my attention to the bridge. I look around to see all the faces of the bridge crew. They all look as invigorated as I feel. The shore leave on Earth was very welcome, but I know now that that's all it was, a shore leave. This is where we belong.   
  
"All right, Mister Paris," I say, just as much to Tom as to the rest of the crew, "take her out." 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	11. Part Eleven - Roses

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Eleven – Roses**   
  
  
_Chakotay is coming over for dinner tonight. It's a bit strange how things are so normal between us. As if we never left Voyager, as if he never ran off to Dorvan and refused to speak to me. As if I never hung up on him. As if his affair with Seven and mine with Harry never happened. I get this strange feeling of dread, as if it's all some sort of facade that will come crumbling down on us any second. Or maybe I'm just overreacting again. Maybe it really is this simple.   
  
This is really quite ridiculous when I think of it. All I can think of is Chakotay. I keep filling page after page with my thoughts about him when I should be writing about how we left for our first official mission today. How all the crewmembers seem happy to be in space and in the right quadrant, about how I feel... free. That's just it, isn't it? For the first time in a very long time I feel free. Free of guilt, free of the burdens of getting the crew home, free from the strange feeling of being lost I had while on Earth. And free to love. But what if he's not interested? What if he just wants to be my friend, after all? What if I really am all alone? Well, I guess I'm about to find out. He'll be here shortly, and I haven't even set the table yet. I should get going._   
  
  
  
I put the diary away carefully this time, wiser by the mistake I made that morning, then I undress and walk into the bathroom. I turn on the water and choose carefully between the exotically scented bath oils I keep by my bathtub. I finally decide on one that smells of roses and pour a few drops into the steaming water. Then I get in and slowly lower myself into the rose-scented hot water. What would I do without a bathtub? I'd be a very cranky Captain without a bathtub, that's for sure. I chuckle a little at that thought, then take a deep breath and settle in the tub. It's very soothing but I can't seem to relax, I keep thinking of the conversation I'm about to have with Chakotay in a couple of hours. I don't know how to say all the things I need him to know. I don't know what words to use. That's a first. I don't think I've ever found myself at a loss for words before. Damn him for doing this to me. I wonder if he knows just how easily he makes my breath catch, my heart beat faster. How his smile alone makes me all warm inside. I sigh to myself. What if I just kissed him? Would he kiss me back? I can't help but imagine just how his lips would feel, pressed to mine. I try to fight it, try to think of other things. But it's not working. The only thing I seem to manage to keep my mind on for any amount of time is Chakotay. I give in. Slowly, I let my hands wander over my body, imagining it's Chakotay's hands. God, the things that man is doing to me. Without even being around. I dread finding out what it's like when he **is** around. If I ever do find out, I remind myself. But that doesn't feel like it's an option right now. I just hope he agrees with me on that.   
  
I get out of the tub and I set the table, light the candles, and get the wine. Then I pour myself a glass of the red liquid, waiting for him to arrive. I dressed carefully. Nice but not too sexy, informal but not careless. Neutral. I'm still thinking of suitable words, but none seem to come to mind. I hate not being able to articulate my thoughts. I really should throw him in the brig for reducing his Captain to a rambling fool. Must be something about that somewhere in the regulations.   
  
The first thing to arrive is a rose. A single rose materializes in the middle of the table. Surprised, I walk over and pick it up, and bring it to my nose. Remembering the scent from my bath earlier I think of the things I imagined him doing while I was satisfying myself in the bathtub. I feel a small lopsided smile make its way onto my lips at the thought. Wicked thoughts of a man with a dimpled smile and a bronze body invade my mind. Just then the doorbell rings, and as I walk over to the door to let him in, my smile is growing wider, and I can't wipe it off my face. So I answer the door grinning like a madwoman.   
  
He doesn't seem to mind, though, it only brings out his own smile. "Good evening, Kathryn. I see you found the rose. I brought the other eleven too," he says and smiles, holding out a bouquet of the most beautiful roses I've ever seen.   
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," I say jokingly and raise an eyebrow at him. "Trying to bribe your Captain by bringing her red roses?"   
  
"That depends," he says, still smiling, "is it working?"   
  
"Yes," I say and flash him one of my crooked smiles.   
  
He lowers his eyes and tugs at his ear, then looks up at me with a dangerously sexy look in his eyes, the dimpled smile firmly in place. I think I have the answer to the question that's been haunting me right there. He still cares for me. He reacts to my smile as much as I react to his. The realization warms my heart, and I feel a big happy smile spread over my face. God, I love this man. Now I just have to let him know. I decide to go for the easy way. I walk up to him, and stand there for a moment, looking into his eyes, smiling. Then I pull his head down to mine and kiss him. The sweet gentleness of the kiss makes my knees weak. Why didn't I do this before? My heart is so full I'm afraid it'll explode any second. I hear a whimper make its way past my lips when we break apart for a moment to breathe. Then I reclaim his lips, deepening the kiss. It's intoxicating, like no other kiss I've ever experienced. On the other hand, I don't think I've ever been in love like this before either. Eventually, we do break apart, and I look into his eyes. I don't think I've seen eyes shine with that much love before. We're both grinning like fools, then he laughs a little and draw me to him, hugging me tightly. I snuggle to his chest, taking simple pleasure in his warmth. I can't help but be amazed by how natural this feels. How right it feels. Something that feels this right just can't be wrong. With my head pressed to his chest I hear him draw in a ragged breath. Surprised, I look up at him. His eyes are bright with tears but I've never seen him smile wider.   
  
"I love you, Kathryn," he whispers.   
  
I feel the tears well up in my eyes as well. It really was this simple. Why did I make things so complicated and hard for myself? I've been a fool. "I love you too, Chakotay," I whisper back. My grumbling stomach breaks the spell that seems to keep us standing there smiling at each other. We both laugh a little at the unexpected sound. I slap his gorgeous butt playfully, then let go of him. "So, what's for dinner?" I ask, winking at him. 

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


	12. Part Twelve - Promises fulfilled (final ...

**Please read!!**  
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)   
  
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!   
  
  
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.   
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.   
  
  
  


**To the journey (post Endgame)**  
PG-13 version   
  
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)   
  
  
  
**Part Twelve - Promises fulfilled **   
  
  
_I had dinner with Chakotay last night. It was... wonderful. Red roses, kisses, smiles, admissions of love. I woke up this morning wondering if it really had happened or if I'd just dreamt it. Then I realized that I'd never dream up something that sappy. Ha ha. It's true, though, I wouldn't. So it must have happened. I think I must have smiled so much last night that it got stuck on my face, because I still can't stop smiling. I bet I've been smiling while I was sleeping too. I just feel wonderful. In love. Loved. Oh, it's a wonderful morning.   
  
He actually left last night. Can you believe that? I said he could stay if he wanted to. To tell you the truth, I wanted him to. He just said 'tomorrow', kissed me goodnight, and left. As if we were teenagers and he left me at the door to my parents' house. But I'm sure looking forward to tonight... Right now I'm expected to turn up at the bridge and claim the Captain's seat, though, so I better do that._   
  
  
  
I manage to tone down my smile just before the turbo lift doors open, but then I see him in his chair, smiling at me. I'm lost. I'm grinning like a fool again. I meet the eyes of Tom Paris and he starts to smile, too. Oh, God. We're the smiling officers of Voyager. Sounds like one of Tom's old 'B-movies'. I steal a glance at Tuvok; he's not smiling is he? Because if he is, we're in trouble. He's not. Good. "Good morning!" I manage to say, as I cross the bridge to my chair.   
  
I feel Chakotay looking at me. It's taking all my willpower to ignore his look. I can't meet his eyes, not here, not on the bridge. I might not be able to stop looking at him, and that will certainly create more gossip than we can handle. It's not that I want my relationship with Chakotay to be a secret, but spending my shift staring into his eyes might not be the most tactful way to break the news. The crew is bound to find out, anyway, just like they found out about me and Harry. Harry. My head shoots up to look at him. Just for a second I meet his gaze, then he looks away. He knows exactly what's going on, and I'm reminded that I've let him get to know me quite well. There's a hint of sadness in his eyes, and knowing that I put it there makes me feel a little guilty. I wonder how Seven will take this. Perhaps I should tell her myself, I don't want her to find out from rumors. But that's for later. Right now I just want to be guilt-free and revel in the love I have for Chakotay. So I put thoughts of the past aside and concentrate on the console instead. I scroll through the night's sensor readings, thinking of Chakotay's promise of 'tomorrow', and smiling at the thought. This is going to be a very long day.   
  
I can't take this. I can't sit next to him. No matter how hard I try to look at the console, I end up studying his hands, his legs, whatever part of him that's within my view. I get up abruptly, and force myself to look into his eyes. "Commander, you have the bridge. I'll be in my ready room," I manage to say. Oh, God, was that my voice? Now the bridge crew knows what's going on for sure, if there were ever any doubt.   
  
"Aye, Captain," he says, but it feels like a caress, his soft words flowing to me.   
  
I can't take my eyes off him. Damn. From the corner of my eye I see Tom Paris swirl around. I think I just revived his betting pool. Damn that big, Native American and former Maquis leader for making me behave like this. Does he have to flash those dimples at me? Using all my willpower, I tear my gaze from him, and walk briskly to my ready room. I replicate a cup of coffee, but before I even make it to my desk, the door chimes.   
  
"Come," I say, hoping it's not Chakotay. Not that I don't want to see him, on the contrary. There's just no telling what will happen if I find myself alone with him, and I don't want to end up doing the things I want to do with him in my ready room. I don't think I'd ever be able to work in here again if I do.   
  
The door opens to reveal a smiling Chakotay, and against my better judgment, it makes me happy. I smile back at him. "What can I do for you, Commander?" I say as he's walking through the door. It's my usual line, but it sounds oddly different today. It has suddenly taken on a completely different meaning. He smiles even wider.   
  
"Well..." he says and pretends to think. Then he looks at me and moves towards me, like a predator closing in on its pray. I clutch my coffee cup. "You could give me a kiss," he says.   
  
Without thinking, I put my cup down and walk to meet him. How can I not? The kiss is demanding, ferocious, and it makes me want more. I run my hands through the short hair on the back of his head and his mouth moves down to kiss my neck. I keep thinking that I should stop him, but find that I don't really want to.   
  
"I want you," he growls, making me want him all the more.   
  
"Not here," I say, fighting for self-control, "not in the ready room. Please."   
  
He stops, but doesn't move away. "Ok," he says, finally, and looks up at me. "Tonight."   
  
  
  
_Today has been the longest day of my life. I've been having so much trouble keeping my eyes and hands off Chakotay. I'm beginning to think he should have stayed last night, maybe that would have taken some of the tension away. Because this whole day has been filled with flirting. It's a good thing there wasn't a lot of work to be done today, because I'm not sure I would have been able to concentrate. I've spent most of the day hiding in my ready room. Away from him.   
  
He did come to see me in my ready room, and we nearly ended up making love right then and there. We did manage to stop in time, but it wasn't easy. God, I've been aroused the whole day. I never thought I'd ever feel like this, I thought it was just something you read in romantic novels. Now I know better.   
  
There are still things we need to resolve, though. We need to discuss all the things that came between us in the Delta Quadrant, we need to talk about Seven, and Harry. But not tonight. Tonight, I'll just forget about all those things. Tonight, I'll just enjoy having him close to me._   
  
  
  
My door chimes and I get up abruptly, throwing the diary carelessly onto the table, knowing exactly who's at the door. The last 30 minutes, waiting for him to get here, has been torture. I don't even notice what he's wearing when he walks into my quarters. All I see is those eyes. It only takes a few seconds before we're kissing, just as fiercely as we did in my ready room this morning. It feels as if this whole day has been foreplay and now we're both desperate for more intimate touches. Kissing, we fall to the floor.   
  
The lovemaking is a passionate and furious release of all the glances, the touches, the feelings that have been constrained these last seven years.   
  
We stay on the floor for quite a while, calming our breathing. "Good evening, Kathryn," he says, dead serious, and I start to laugh.   
  
"Good evening, Chakotay," I reply between chuckles. "How are you tonight?"   
  
Now he chuckles too, and lowers his head to kiss me again. "Never been better."   
  
  
  
  
  
_End of "To the Journey." Watch for the sequel, "Lost and Found," which follows the mission the Voyager crew are now on. There'll be an abduction, a rescue, and the aftermath of avoiding those conversations about Harry and Seven._

  
  


------------------------------------------------------------  
nameless_ensign@hotmail.com  
http://go.to/nameless_ensign 


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